Slow Me Down
by sono spiacente
Summary: Lavi/Kanda ჯ Save me, somebody take my hand. Totally gratuitous, plotless, you know the drill.


**Author's Notes:** God, this is such ridiculously gratuitous porn. I _never_ write gratuitous porn. What is going on here? Regardless .. characters, etc. property of .. um. Hoshino. Whatever her first name is. You know.

* * *

"This doesn't change anything."

It's such a Kanda thing to say, and so completely out of place in this situation, but there's something about his _voice_, something dark and broken that has Lavi shuddering under him even as he's arching up. Things between them are never gentle, not exactly, but they can be quiet -- and this is one of those quiet times. But it's different, new -- they've never been like _this_ before, and Lavi wants nothing more than to use his Bookman mind to memorize every line of Kanda's body.

Lavi remembers how they got here. Of _course _he remembers how they got here -- he's a Bookman, isn't he? It was after the battles on the Ark, after they'd all almost been lost; after Krory had nearly been destroyed by Jasdevi, after Lavi had nearly destroyed his friends and himself. After all of that.

He was a Bookman, and maybe it wasn't his job to make friends, but it also wasn't his job to get innocent people killed. He was a Bookman, but he was also an Exorcist, and that meant protection as much as it meant a place to stand. The guilt had almost crushed Lavi -- he'd looked into Allen's eyes and seen the hurt, even through the smiles, and he'd understood exactly what he'd done.

Everyone had steered clear of him, for a while. Lavi wasn't used to being an introvert -- at least, not with this alias -- but there were some wounds too deep to be healed with a few kind words, and he'd retreated to his room. It was there that Kanda had found him, in a fit of self-pity and self-hate.

"I don't have time for this," Kanda had snapped, slamming the door behind him as he entered Lavi's room. "Everyone else is over it."

"Yeah, well, I'm not everyone," Lavi had retorted, his back facing Kanda, too tired to recognize the idiocy of his own words.

"Don't be a fool."

"Shut _up_," Lavi said, turning and throwing an arm in Kanda's general direction. It was supposed to be more of a shooing gesture than an actual blow -- and when Kanda's hand wrapped around his fist, forcing him to a halt, Lavi was understandably surprised.

"What --" he'd said, and then his skull was connecting with the wall, a hand at his wrist and a hand at his collarbone and Kanda's mouth pressed against his. Well. There was that, then.

And now they're here, and Lavi realizes that he's never seen Kanda completely free of clothing; if the rest of the Order knew what he looked like under his uniform .. Lavi chases the thought away almost as quickly as it comes, digging his fingers into the sheets and locking his legs around Kanda's waist. They're naked, they're both naked, Lavi has never been this naked, not even on the day he was born. His skin is warm where Kanda's body presses against it, and then Kanda presses against _him_, and into him, and _oh._

He bites back a hiss of discomfort -- it's not pain, exactly, because he's known pain and this isn't it, but it's uncomfortable and too _full_. Kanda's hand presses against his hip, flattens on his stomach, as though he wants to be able to feel himself moving inside of Lavi's body, and the very thought is almost enough to make Lavi lose it, discomfort be damned.

Kanda mutters something in broken Japanese, something that Lavi could translate if he'd half his wits about him, and braces himself with both hands on either side of Lavi's body. He hesitates; Kanda _never_ hesitates. Kanda takes, and gives as good as he gets with all the force of a windstorm -- he's brilliant at what he does, really, but he's not the hesitating type.

"You'd better be ready," Kanda says, finally, and Lavi is.

This is, Lavi thinks hazily, both the kindest and the cruelest that he's ever seen Kanda. They move together, separately, like magnets or like planets in orbit -- Lavi throws a hand out to brace himself against the bedpost, and Kanda's fingernails scrape across his back and it's _incredible_, like nothing Lavi has ever experienced.

He is a Bookman, and that means intelligence, but there are some things even Lavi doesn't know, and this is one of them. Somehow, he doubts he'll ever know it again -- not the way Kanda feels above him, around him, inside him. Especially inside him.

"Don't look at me like that," Kanda growls, and his voice is dark with irritation and something deeper.

"Like what?" Lavi asks, struggling to speak through fits of panting.

"Like you're analyzing me. Turn off your fucking brain for a second."

Lavi laughs, partially because it makes no sense and partially because there's no way he can ever tell Kanda this -- being a Bookman means you don't get a choice, you don't get to think _I want to forget_ and have it happen. And even if he wasn't -- Lavi gasps, arches against Kanda; he's shattering into a thousand pieces, melting hot and he's everywhere at once, maybe this is heaven or hell or something in between, some combination of the two and _gods, Yuu, is this real?_ -- even if he wasn't a Bookman, he couldn't forget this.

No, he thinks, as Kanda shudders against him and collapses onto his chest, no. I couldn't forget this.


End file.
